


He Never Existed

by Tea_is_Not_Them



Series: He Never Existed Saga [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Biblical Allusions, Body Horror, But he kinda died, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Jon's not Dead Dead, Minor Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Monster Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, The Web Fear Entity (The Magnus Archives), kind of?, might continue idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_is_Not_Them/pseuds/Tea_is_Not_Them
Summary: “What gave it away?” Jon says, standing up now, his voice drops, and sounds multiplied, he played the waiting game long enough, and maybe he was finally proud of someone for figuring it out, “Was it the eyes? The laugh? The spine bend out of place- I’ll admit that one was a bit overkill.”“Sh-shut up! Give him back.” Martin says, his voice strong, commanding, something he did not feel.
Series: He Never Existed Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188941
Comments: 16
Kudos: 69





	He Never Existed

**Author's Note:**

> BIGGEST THANK YOU TO theoestofocs on tumblr for having a big brain idea and letting me write for it! I enjoyed this, an I even tried to delve back into my favored genre of horror, even if I didn't want to kill off my happy ending. 
> 
> I might write more, honestly! I enjoyed the ideas that were sparked, and I do wonder if the Archival Assistants will even met the real Jon!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Jon had not been the best boss, had been a bit of a prick, a bit of a workaholic, a bit too stingy on paperwork. But they did care for him, in a weird way, he would give them al private smiles, would listen to jokes and pretend he wasn’t laughing with them. He was their friend, even if by some coaxing like one would with a stray cat.

And maybe Martin had gotten a crush on the man, but sue him, he has a thing for tired academics.

It was when Jane Prentiss had driven Martin to take shelter in the Archives, that Martin finally noticed something strange about his boss. Tim and Sasha had known him longer, sure, but he still found it odd, when multiple voices came from Jon’s office in the middle of the night, when tape recorders started randomly around the place, and how Jon would simply laugh and pick the tape up, as if this was normal for him.

When many footsteps came from the depths of the archives, when Martin knows only he and Jon are there, he is scared to ask what was wrong with himself, what was happening. Was the old building playing tricks on him? Was it something actually wrong?

The final show to drop happened in the breakroom, when he saw Jon slumped over like a dead man, his spine twisted and turned in inhuman ways, his eyes open but dead, and his hands still moving, wearing a little yarn between his fingers. Martin hears a creak, and he realizes it was him, he had tried to leave, but in his backtracking he had stepped on the notoriously loud floorboard that everyone tended to jump over, even Jon himself.

The body of Jonathan Sims sat up, and stared at Martin, his eyes not longer dead, but Martin can swear he hears skittering. And Jon simply smiles, this one is not right, that is not Jon’s smiles- and he lifts a finger to his lips and shushes Martin.

Martin flees the room, dropping his mug, and he hears the archives door open, and Tim and Sasha’s voice flood the room joyously, boisterous even this time of the morning, and Martin hears Jon saying ‘hello. Good morning’ as if nothing happened. Martin was not going crazy. He swears by that, he knows that something is very wrong, and finally that was the last straw,- he couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let whatever was masquerading as their boss get away with it.

He was back in, and Tim and Sasha are staring at Jon, and he finally gets the confidence for words to spill from his lips.

“Guys. That is not Jon.” He says, and his voice is strangely calms, and the two look as if he was crazy, before Jon looks at Martin and laughs.

“What gave it away?” Jon says, standing up now, his voice drops, and sounds multiplied, he played the waiting game long enough, and maybe he was finally proud of someone for figuring it out, “Was it the eyes? The laugh? The spine bent out of place- I’ll admit that one was a bit overkill.”

Tim and Sasha watch as Jon’s skin seems to writhe like millions of little legs pulsated under skin, and something crawls out of the thing that they thought was their friend’s mouth.

“Sh-shut up! Give him back.” Martin says, his voice strong, commanding, something he did not feel.

The creature laughs even more now, before going serious its voice loud and magnified by tiny voices, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Jonathan Sims never existed.”

It mouth twists into a sick smile as it watches the horror of the archival assistant, and spiders begin to crawl from under his eyelids, flooding his face.

“No…” Martin’s words come out in a whisper, one of shock .

A tape recorder shows up, “Jonathan Sims died when he was eight years old- a fragile curious thing, until Mr. Spider got him, took him and ate his life, leaving a husk of bones and skin behind. For us to take hold of the man, for us to pretend to be the boy who lost his life like the curious cat he was. We are Jonathan Sims, and we are the web that we’ve created of his life.”

The things voices change, going from multitudes to one, small and scared.

“No- no. Please don’t- I don’t want to die!” And a horrendous scream rips through the room, and the thing stops. Almost. Confused. It is- what was happening to it.

“Run-” The crackling static of a child’s voice came from the husk of a man, filled with millions of spiders, and then an older voice, Jon’s voice but slightly different than the one they were used to, “Get out! Run while you can-”

The thing’s hand comes up to it’s mouth and holds it's palm over it lips trying to muffle the noise of the real owner of the body came through, but then voices and voices of static and screaming tapes came from around the office like a cacophonous biblical angel screaming warnings like the seraphim, telling them to leave as hell unleashed in millions of legs and voices.

The spiders didn’t know that the brain they had taken still had a splinter of the original man, the man who grew to love people, even if he wasn’t the one interacting with them. The eight year old who was once eaten alive and destroyed still persisted, if only for curiosity about life. He lived and bided his time like the spider that killed him and waited until he could save as many people as possible, until he was enough of a soul to kick the things from him.

Spider’s expelled from every place they could, crawling out of his eyes, and mouth and nose and ears, the husk of a body slowly falling to the ground like a puppet left unstrung, and the voice of the real Jonathan Sims persisted, even after the archival assistants had started running, and had set the fire alarm.

\-------

Sasha, Tim, and Martin stare at the empty archives. Jon’s body wasn’t found, but that can’t be right, the exterminators said there were millions of carcasses left behind. Millions of spider husks left dead, the body would have nothing to move for. They remember the words of the spiders, the warnings, that day etched into their minds like an embroidered web.

Tim phone goes off, and with some trepidation, and a feeling of blanketed unease swallows the room, he answers, the speaker option already on.

A voice sounds out from the other end, soft, tired, deep, and so very familiar, “I’m alive.” It goes quiet, “Please don’t forget about me.”


End file.
